Undercover
by Botosphere
Summary: DarthIshtar contribution: Mikaela makes an Autobot friend of her own in a very unexpected way...
1. Chapter 1

I had to be hearing things. Every once in a while, I'd hear things clanking and clunking, but between Bones and the little guy, that wasn't all that weird. I didn't give it any thought.

And then I heard the sound of an engine starting up.

I immediately looked up to see if someone was pulling up outside, but there were no headlights on out there. Maybe it was just a passing car. Either way, I kept one of my earbuds out in case someone came to call.

In the middle of Linkin Park's "Somewhere I Belong", just when I'd gotten back to the oil-change on Daniel Mack's Saab, it happened again. This time, it didn't sound up like an engine rev so much as a throat-clearing.

I _had_ to be hearing things. Another look around assured me that nothing was turned on.

As my gaze finished their circuit around the room, a pair of headlights flashed on and the engine revved again. It was definitely the station wagon, the old clunker that had been towed here this morning. I was betting that if I searched the whole car, I wouldn't be able to find out how it did it.

I shouldn't have been surprised—I'd been hanging out with a shape-shifting Camaro and a satanic toy car for years—but compared to the Mustang that Dad was working on and the Lexus that I needed to do a tuneup on, an '88 Ford Escort wasn't what I thought would turn out to have the Spark of life.

Maybe it was a fluke, but it…he…she…the thing was making me nervous. I went casually about my business and dialed Sam's number. He answered on the third ring, sounding groggy. It_ was_ about 2 a.m. on the East Coast and he'd just finished midterms.

"Hey, cutie," I said casually. "Sorry if I woke you up."

"No problem," he lied, his voice turning the kind of perky that meant he was trying to pretend he was alert and paying attention. "What's up?"

"Just a quick question." I turned around and pinned the Escort with a glare just in case it was in the mood to try something. Damn _right_ I was the Warrior Goddess. "Does Satan's Camaro have a brother?"

The engine backfired and then started ticking. It sounded like a snort followed by a giggle. I was _definitely _hearing things. Sam hemmed and hawed for a few seconds before finally speaking up again.

"Uh…what? You mean, other than the other guys?"

"Yeah."

"Not that I…know of?" he said uncertainly. "Do I want to know why?"

"Um, there's a Ford station wagon sitting in my garage and _laughing_ at me. Should I be worried?"

He finally sounded actually alert this time. "Have you done a walk-around? Checked for the usual sign?"

I didn't want to admit that I was half-tempted to get a defensive crowbar first. I'd been working across from the thing since dinner and it hadn't done a thing. Now I felt like I'd been spied on.

"Not yet." I picked up a socket wrench just in case and swung it casually back and forth as I started circling the thing. "Nothing special. Ohio plates. Bumper sticker of a Radio Flyer wagon. One of those MADD stickers. Ah…"

I trailed off. On the back windshield, right next to one of those Calvin-peeing stickers you see everywhere, was something that _didn't_ look freaky. It looked like a decal, but didn't come off when I picked at it, and it was in the same shape as the Autobots' mark.

"Never mind, Sam," I said. "We're good."

"Not a robot at all?"

"I'll call you tomorrow."

I flipped the phone shut and went back to the workbench before sitting down to give the thing some space. I kept the wrench handy in case I was wrong.

"Okay," I called, "I know you're doing a good impression of not being a Decepticon. Want to come introduce yourself?"

The front grill retracted quickly and in the usual twist-and-shout of shape-shifting, the station wagon turned into a runty little autobot. Seriously, even Bumblebee would be head and shoulders taller than the 'bot in front of me, though the nameless station wagon was a lot boxier in build.

"I'm Mikaela," I introduced myself. "Are you a good bot or a bad bot?"

"You may call me Radio Flyer," the car introduced itself in a decent impression of an electronic Catherine Zeta-Jones. "Or RaFly, if you prefer. A pleasure to meet you."

"Mm-hmm." Polite or not, she'd been staring at me for hours. "How'd you get here?"

"The World Wide Web," she explained, trying to lounge like I was; it wasn't working terribly well. "You are on the friends page of Bumblebee's Sam."

I had to admit, of all the ways I'd thought I'd be contacted by aliens, I never thought it would come down to Facebook.

"So, why not go to him?" I asked, finally setting down the wrench. "He's got better connections."

RaFly gave a little shimmy that looked almost human. "I have not had contact with many of your kind," she confessed. "I preferred to approach a female."

Great. A _shy_ alien car.

"So, the stalled engine was just an act?"

She looked, for all the world, like she would have blushed if she wanted to. "I had difficulty adapting to your oxygen-based atmosphere. That has been remedied now."

So, I had a Ford transformer in my garage. It was shy. It was a girl. And it had allergies to Earth.

"And you harbor a Decepticon. I didn't want to blow my cover."

"Wheelie? No, no, he's a defector. Sort of my fan club."

She blinked her headlights at me for nearly a minute. "Your fan club?"

"Yeah," I said. "Let's go for a ride. I'll tell you about it."


	2. Chapter 2

I'd been half-awake for Mikaela's call, but you can bet I didn't sleep much the rest of the night. I tried getting Leo up, but he'd pulled an all-nighter the night before and muttered something about keying my car if I even _breathed _too loud. Whatever was happening I was on my own. One man alone with his woman in danger.

It didn't help that my eyes and ears at the garage was stonewalling me. No matter how many texts I sent, he told me that the Warrior Goddess had left with "The Thing" and it was her idea in the first place. No way was he going to risk his other eye to stalk her. Mikaela wasn't answering my texts either.

About an hour before I had to be at OChem, I had convinced myself that Mikaela wouldn't have actually hung up the phone if there was any danger. I snarfed a Pop-Tart, put on deodorant and tried calling her on my way to campus.

"I'm _fine_," were her first words. "Just went for a little ride."

A little ride? Was that code for something? She wouldn't have called me if she'd been among friends and she hadn't answered all night. For all I knew, she'd run into a Pretender and was making small talk so they wouldn't kill her.

"Just say yes or no," I hissed. "Are you under duress?"

"Sam," she said impatiently, "will you settle down? I wouldn't have hung up if there was a problem. "

Much as I disliked fearing for her life, I liked being blown off even less. "Oh, yeah, sure," I said. "Just as soon as you tell me what you were doing all night with Satan's Camaro's brother!"

"Sister," she corrected mildly. "And as far as I can tell, she's not even his distant cousin. The mechanics of it get pretty complicated that far back."

A _fembot_? She'd kept me up all night worrying over an Arcee?

"So, you've been ignoring my phone calls because you were having some girl _bonding_ time?" I guessed, trying to keep my cool a little more effectively than before.

"Well, that and you were being a pest," she added unhelpfully. "Really, don't you trust me at all?"

Oh, this could get bad. That was a pretty touchy subject. I had to have an attitude adjustment in about the next two sentences. And she had a pretty good point. I just didn't like the idea of everything I'd imagined the night before and apparently, I'd had an aneurysm because she went out for Starbucks with a new m.

"Of course I trust you," I soothed. "When can I meet your new friend?"

"Um..."

She considered for a while.

"I can convince Dad that I've earned vacation time," she suggested. "We can take a little road trip and be there by, let's say Saturday night. I'll drop by and we'll all get to know each other?"

That left _days_ before I could give my seal of approval to whatever had made first contact. It probably wasn't worth getting Optimus out of bed for, but I should at least threaten Wheelie into playing chaperone.

"Yeah, Saturday sounds good."

"I love you, Sam," Mikaela purred into the phone now that I'd come to my senses for her sake. "Even when you're being a knucklehead."

"Love you, too," I sighed. "See you on Saturday."

I texted Bee while Doctor Edmonds was passing back our last tests and glanced at the paper to make sure I passed before getting back to business. It wasn't usual that I called him out, but these were drastic times and he had been needing some human contact anyway.

When I got to the food court, he was already there with cover-story pepperoni pizza on the table and a cute girl-next-door type flirting with him. He looked vaguely uncomfortable with the attention, but it was his fault for making his holoform look like an ad for Bowflex. Blonde hair, blue eyes and muscles that Popeye would have envied, he always got unwanted attention when he went out in public.

The brunette was gone by the time I got there, but Bee had obediently tucked her number into his jeans pocket. It wasn't as if he'd actually call her, but he kept a tally for the amusement of the bots still stuck on Diego Garcia.

"Sam," he greeted genially. "'Sup, man?"

Sometimes, it was downright weird to hear him talk like a relatively normal human being. He tried to blend in with all the other college kids and didn't really get the hang of it at times I slapped him a high five and grabbed a piece of pizza.

"Nice threads," I commented. He'd picked a plaid shirt and hiking boots so he looked like a very trendy lumberjack. "Have you heard anything from the guys?"

"Nope," he said, reaching for his Dr. Pepper. "They're all busy with work right now. Didn't tell me much about it."

Ah. NEST business and classified at that. Good thing I hadn't freaked out enough to call in the cavalry.

"Why? Something I should know about, dude?"

"Uh...sort of." Mikaela was probably going to kill me if she found out, but I had to take that chance. "I need some information and Wheelie's not scared of me."

Appropriately, he flexed his muscles. He _loved_ terrorizing the ex-'Con. I was practically doing him a favor by asking for his help.

"Mikaela's got a visitor," I explained. "Doesn't sound like one of _them_, but I can't be sure and she's not telling me anything. All I know is it showed up yesterday, Mikaela thought she was related to you and Wheelie calls it The Thing."

"Hmmm..." Bee cracked his knuckles and I was sure if he'd been in alt-form, he'd have started playing something like "Bad Moon on the Rise." "And you want pics. I think I can swing that."

"I can wait for them, but if you could upload them so the other guys can see them and see if any of them recognize her."

"Will do, bud," he assured me.

"Thanks, Bee," I said with a grin. "I owe you a waxing for that."

"Naw, I gots job satisfaction," he drawled. "Drive home for Christmas break and we'll call it even."

All that driving with him controlling the radio. That could be less than entertaining, but he deserved good treatment.

"Deal."

True to her word, Mikaela called from the outskirts of town on Saturday night to say she was going to be here around seven. That gave me twenty minutes to get my 'do right and find a shirt that didn't have _some_ kind of pizza sauce or burn mark on it. Leo walked in just in time to find me applying the aftershave Mikaela had given me for my birthday.

"Whew," he breathed, waving a hand in front of his face. "Hot date tonight or are you just trying to kill off every fly in the city?"

I scraped a comb through my fingers, then reconsidered my part. "Mikaela's coming."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh," he sighed understandingly. "Mi_kae_la."

I never liked the way he said her name. Made me feel like I should slug him for having inappropriate thoughts about my girl.

"She's bringing the new car," I elaborated.

"The _new_ car?" he repeated. "The new _car?_"

"_The_ new _car," _I confirmed. "I can't _wait_ to see what kind of hot rod went to my biker chick for help."

"No kidding," Leo said. "Do those guys ever pick Aston Martins?"

"You've seen Bee," I countered. "Some of them have an ego, some of them don't need all that much flash."

There was a loud honk from the parking spot nearest my window. It would have been dorky to run to the window to check Mikaela out, so I just ran my hands through my hair one more time and grinned.

"Showtime."

I knew I was screwed the moment I saw Mikaela. She could have covered up more, but she would have looked like a nun. Instead of her usual style, she was wearing a baggy turtleneck and an ankle-length skirt that I didn't even know she _owned_. She was leaning against a half-rusted station wagon and glowering at me.

Someone had blabbed and I had to change the subject.

"Wow," I said with as much admiration as I could muster for the '97 Camry opposite her. "This is a pretty sweet ride. If I'd known..."

"You had Bee run a _background check?_" she snarled as the station wagon backfired unexpectedly.

I could come up with a hundred excuses. I wanted to share the good news. I wanted to update the blog. We were testing Wheelie's new webcam capabilities. All of those would get me in deeper and hotter water, so I settled for the truth.

"I knew you trusted her," I insisted, "but _she_ could have been lying to you. I did it out of love."

"You went behind my _back,_" Mikaela snapped. "And I found out about it because Hyde texted me an ROFLMCAO about twenty minutes later."

Uh-oh. If Ironhide was rolling on the floor laughing his Cybertronian...

"He wasn't supposed to know about it," I protested. "Bee was going to only check it out with Prime."

She folded her arms across her chest and looked down her nose at me. "You're _not_ helping."

Since I didn't want to do anything inappropriate on her car before I'd been introduced to it, I backed her against the station wagon and kissed her hard enough to draw a few "GET A ROOM" calls from the other guys passing by.

"_Still not helping_," she muttered once I broke it off, but at least _I_ was the one to pull away. "You said you trusted me."

"Yeah, but sometimes I'm an idiot," I confessed. "I'm sorry and it won't happen again."

"I doubt that," she said, looking slightly mollified by my apology. "Where are we going?"

"Well, there's this great Italian place about two miles away," I suggested, reaching for the door handle of the Camry. "I thought you might..."

She cleared her throat and on cue, the station wagon opened all of its doors, including the hatch. I froze with my hand on the handle and stared.

"_That?_"

"Oh, don't get started," she chided. "Remember Bee?"

My tough girlfriend was driving something that looked like it had been swiped from a down-on-her-luck soccer mom. I couldn't even begin to explain that one.

"Seriously?" I asked. "Of all the cars..."

"There's something that none of the guys have ever understood," Mikaela stated. "It's the concept of _blending in_."

"Yeah, except this thing looks like it's going to blow," I protested.

The engine turned on and revved angrily.

"Her name is Radio Flyer, I call her RaFly for short and you're going to shut up and be the best of friends with her," she ordered. "Or I'll make you babysit Wheelie."

RaFly bounced invitingly and I nervously slid into the passenger seat. She closed the door a little harder than necessary, but seemed to be on good behavior otherwise.

"Yes, ma'am," I muttered.


	3. Chapter 3

Much to my surprise, RaFly was a pretty smooth ride. Sure, she backfired every few blocks and idled pretty hard when we stopped at lights, but I had the feeling that she was keeping up appearances. Even her circa-1985 tape deck had amazing quality and I couldn't tell if Mikaela had given her a welcome-to-the-family tune-up or if she was always like this.

"So," I said a little more casually than earlier, "business or pleasure first?"

"Business," Mikaela requested.

I noticed her hands were barely even touching the wheel. It was something I did when I needed to look like I was driving, but wanted Bee to have control. I never let him use his holoform to drive on road trips, but this was the next best thing.

We hung a left at the next light and started winding our way through a more industrial part of town. Finally, we rolled into an abandoned back lot and the engine turned off after a final backfire.

"Showtime," Mikaela announced.

We stayed standing once we got out to show respect and in less than a minute, the cute little rustbucket had transformed. She held out a mechanical hand and I squeezed the fingertips.

"Radio Flyer, I am Samuel James Witwicky," I introduced myself. "Welcome to Earth."

"A pleasure to meet you," RaFly responded, imitating my handshake but clearly scared that she'd break something if she shook too hard. "Mikaela has told me much about you."

"Stop being so formal," Mikaela chided. "This isn't a state dinner. We're just making new friends."

"Sorry," I said. "I'm never sure if I should treat a newbie like Skids and Mudflap or Optimus Prime."

"Good point," Mikaela chuckled. "I've been trying to loosen her up, but it's not quite working."

To demonstrate, RaFly tried a gang sign and purred, "Yo, man, this place is, like, off the HEEZY."

"She found Youtube," my girlfriend explained with some embarrassment.

"You don't have to be _that_ casual," I assured her. "We're all friends here."

RaFly had been standing, but now she leaned casually against the nearest telephone pole in a positively human stance. "No problem," she said. "Nice to meetcha, Sam."

"You too, RaFly," I said. "Ironhide says hi. You guys know each other?"

She nodded. "He didn't explain?"

"He just said you guys saw some action a while back," I said. "Everyone I talked to who knew you said you were all right for a spy and needed a sense of humor."

"_Everyone?"_ Mikaela challenged.

"Well, not Ratchet," I corrected. "He said you had a clean bill of health when he last saw you and that it had better _stay_ that way."

"That sounds like him," RaFly granted. "What about Bumblebee?"

"'And she only reveals what she wants you to see. She hides like a child but she's always a woman to me.'"

Both Mikaela and RaFly laughed at that as if it made perfect sense and I grinned. "So, what's with the cover? You can blend in without being a fire hazard."

"It's true that I've seen some action," RaFly explained, "but I have not participated in it."

I couldn't actually think of anyone who liked to treat battles as a spectator sport, but there weren't a lot of things about the Autobots that were considered normal behavior.

"So you were, what a civilian bystander?"

"Surveillance,' Mikaela corrected. "Stakeouts."

"I am what you might call a sensor officer."

"Or an undercover cop," Mikaela added.

RaFly's head bobbed in a nod. "Many times, I will observe the dealings of the Decepticons and pass the reconnaissance on to our warriors."

So she was watching their backs so they wouldn't have to as much. I could live with someone like that as a friend. And it explained 'Bee's name for her.

"So that's why my car thinks you go by Snoops?"

She chuckled a little at that. "I wouldn't let anyone else call me that."

I glanced at Mikaela for explanation and she waved her hands to indicate that it was NOT something she was going into in front of the 'bot. Another one of 'Bee's old girlfriends? Well, the way he was breaking hearts around campus, it wasn't that surprising.

"So the station wagon is just cover," I said to change the subject.

"That's not the best part," Mikaela informed me. "Show him, Ra."

RaFly obediently morphed back into the deathtrap that she'd been a few minutes ago. Then, to my surprise, her tires retracted into the rims and her fender detached on one side. Now she looked not only beat up but abandoned. I'd seen probably a dozen of cars just like that around Burbank and never given them a second thought other than to wonder why no one bothered getting rid of the things.

And then she reverted back. The fender reattached itself smoothly, the tires reinflated and the engine turned on easily. It practically merited a "Ta-daaaa!"

"That's great," I said honestly. "Okay, girls, you've got me convinced. So now there's just one thing to be done."

"Which is?" Mikaela asked.

"Take her to meet the family."


End file.
